Two Parts of a Soul
by Cecelia Everhart
Summary: They said that the fate necklaces were simple. They said that the fate necklaces would show you your true love. But nothing had prepared Hermione for this.
1. The Fated Necklaces

Chapter One: The Fated Necklaces

Hermione (September 17, 5:05 p.m.)

Hermione Granger sighed as she opened the large dusty book that lay on the library table in front of her. For once, she did not want to read a book or complete her homework. It wasn't that she didn't like reading or homework anymore, not at all. It was just that the assignment was on fate necklaces, a touchy subject for Hermione. With another huge sigh, she opened the book and flipped to the right page.

_Fate necklaces have been a mystery to the wizarding world for centuries. No one knows quite where these necklaces came from, although there has been much speculation on the topic._

_Sometime during your early life, you receive a fate necklace. Only the most experienced wizards have the ability to create one of these legendary necklaces, and so these wizards are highly respected and revered. The charm to create a fate necklace has never been released to the public. The only exception to this was the fatal mishap in 1602 in which the charm was accidentally revealed to the public. Many people tried to create new necklaces for themselves in an attempt to change their destiny. This resulted in over 200,000 deaths, owing to the fact that removing your necklace will slowly kill you. Thus, the charm was secured by the ministry. _

_Each of these fate necklaces are a half of a whole picture. The person in the possession of the other half of the necklace is your soul mate. Most people keep their necklaces hidden until they are certain they have found their partner. If you reveal your necklace to the wrong person, you will find it extremely painful to later on bond with your true mate. The pain is so excruciating, that some wizards and witches don't ever bond. However, if you find the person who has the other half to your necklace, you simply combine them into one and then you are bonded for life. Many people refuse to accept their true soulmates, marrying others instead and soon finding that they are unhappy. Some people, usually witches and wizards with exceptional magical skills, form extremely strong bonds, which-_

At this point, Hermione slammed the book shut and stood up quickly, earning her a sharp glance from Madam Pince. With great reluctance, Hermione picked up the book and walked out of the quiet sanctuary, planning to finish her assignment in the Head's common room. However, Ron quickly apprehended her at the library's door.

"'Mione," he exclaimed, a big smile breaking out onto his face, "I've been looking all over for you."

"Hello Ronald," replied Hermione in a strained voice, "I was just about to head back to the common room. I'll talk with you later."

Hermione turned to leave, but before she could escape, Ron grabbed her arm and yanked her back around. Hermione winced at his brutality, but she stood quietly anyway and waited for Ron to speak.

"How are you doing? I know it hasn't been easy with your parents and the house and all..." Ron quietly started.

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Hermione sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah. Ok. Well..I've been thinking lately...and...maybe..I..well..if you want to," Ron painfully stumbled over his words.

"Spit it out Ron," Hermione said sharply, tears still fighting to run down her cheeks.

_What was wrong with her? _Hermione thought. _She should be nicer to him. He was her best friend after all and her anger wasn't towards him. It was the stupid fate necklaces that were creating problems. _

"I'm sorry," she said without any remorse in her voice, "What do you want?"

"Right, so Hermione, willyougoutwithme?"

_Did he just ask me to go out with him? I can't go out with him; he's like a brother to me...but I can't reject him, that will be awkward afterwards. I can't deal with this right now; I'm just too tired... Don't just stand there staring like an idiot! Say something._

"Ummmm...sure," she said, and ran.

_What did I just agree to?_

Hermione ran all the way back to the Head's dorms and murmured "Dragons' blood" to the motherly portrait that guarded the entry way. She was so lost in thought entering the room, she failed to notice Draco Malfoy lounging on the plush couch reading a book.

"Hello Mudblood," he sneered, "Been in the library all this time? Haven't you got anything better to do? Like have friends?"

Hermione ignored him and ran up the stone stairs to her room, throwing herself onto her bed after slamming the door shut. She wanted nothing more than to erase the past five minutes. Her life was spiraling downwards, and quickly. After the Death Eaters had killed her parents, she had had no one to turn to; Harry and Ron had been very nice about the whole thing, but they just didn't understand. Admittedly, Harry's parents were dead as well, but he was useless when it came to comforting crying girls. And then there had been the catastrophic incident in which her house had been burned to the ground. Dumbledore had allowed her to live at Hogwarts until she made other arrangements. Living at Hogwarts year round had been interesting, but emotionally taxing. Plus the fact that she was forced to share a dorm with her fellow Head Boy, Malfoy. And now Ron. Of course she didn't want to date him. He was Ron after all.

Hermione's thoughts whirled faster and faster and she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, hoping that the world would take the hint and just leave her alone. The world, however, was just plain oblivious to Hermione's feelings. The next two months were possibly the worst of Hermione's life.


	2. The Dark Lord

**Author's Note: Thank you to my wonderful beta A Muffin with a Mission. Also, I do not own any of the characters, places, etc. mentioned in this story. Those belong to the amazing Mrs. Rowling. I only own the plot. **

**Chapter Two: The Dark Lord's New Plan**

_**Draco (September 17, 9:07 p.m.)**_

Draco had never been more miserable in his entire existence. He had never wanted to live the life he had been born into. He had never wanted Lucius Malfoy to be his father. He had never wanted to be rich. He had never wanted to become a Death Eater. But unfortunately, all these things were his. He lay on his bed, staring at the wall, and allowed himself to indulge in a rare moment of weakness. Draco's mask slipped off his face and true pain showed in his eyes. A loud knock sounded on the mahogany door, reverberating through the room. An annoying, high pitched voice followed.

"Ohhh Drakie. I know you're in there," simpered Pansy Parkinson as she slammed open the door and walked over to his silken bed, with what she clearly thought was a sexy strut.

Draco quickly sat up and slid his normal facade back into place.

"Pansy," he purred, although inwardly he cringed. He hated Parkinson, but he had to obey his father or face the consequences.

She plopped herself onto his bed and with an ugly smile on her ugly face she coyly said, "Drakie, I want to see your necklace."

He started to protest. "Do you really think I would want-?"

Draco was cut off when Pansy placed a finger on his lips and leaned closer to him, close enough for him to see the boring mud brown eyes set deeply into a pug-like face. He almost snorted, but once again remembered his father's warning and kept his mouth shut. Pansy reached for his neck and Draco immediately tried to protest, against his better judgement. Pansy ignored his attempts, completely oblivious to his struggles. Keeping one finger on his lips, she slipped her hand into his shirt and, lingering there for a moment, curled her hand around his necklace. Grabbing her necklace, she opened her hands, revealing the two necklaces lying in her palm. Her face, so open and excited, became trampled by her obvious disappointment and disbelief. Her charm, half of a butterfly, did not at all fit Draco's necklace. Draco breathed a slight sigh of relief, although he had always known that Parkinson could never possibly be his soul mate.

"Drakie," Pansy desperately whined, "We could still be together. I don't care what the fates say; I love you."

_This makes my life a whole lot easier_, thought Draco.

"As much as I want to stay with you," Draco replied smirking, "We obviously can't. Have a nice life. Get out of my room."

"But, Drakie-"

"Get out Parkinson," he growled, annoyed.

Hurt fresh on her face, she clumsily climbed off of his bed and ran out of the room, almost choking Draco as she let go of his necklace.

Draco lay back down and settled himself into a comfortable position, allowing his thoughts to flow freely, filling the space around him.

_Why did I even given the stupid pig the password in the first place? Ahhh, yes to make Granger angry. _

The memory of that day played in his mind as he fiddled with the corner of his shirt.

_He had just arrived at school and learned that he must spend the school year with Granger as the Head Girl. Granger! Of all people, that know it all filthy Mudblood had attained the position of his equal. He stormed off to the Heads' common room and reached the entrance, before he realized that he had no idea what the password was. Angrily, he leaned beside the portrait of an ugly old man, and waited for Granger to come. She had walked up, mere minutes later, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, and for a minute Draco forgot his anger. She had looked so innocent and, Merlin help him, even... beautiful in that moment. But he quickly remembered who he was and why he was angry. He snapped at her and called her a Mudblood like always. Draco demanded the password, and strutted past her into the common room when the portrait swung open, not bothering to look at her until he heard her angry retort. _

"_You arrogant, callous Slytherin! I have endured countless insults from you, and I have had enough. Just because you're a Death Eater doesn't mean you're better than everyone else!"_

_His heart stopped. A Death Eater? How had she known? Draco turned to reply, but before he could say anything, the irritating voice of Parkinson called out to him. _

"_Oh Draco, there you are." She panted, apparently worn out. "I've- I've been looking all over for you. I haven't seen you in so long and we need to... catch up."_

_Smirking, he replied, "Pansy ahh. I've been looking for you as well."_

What a perfect opportunity to annoy Granger! Draco thought.

_He continued." I..um... I wanted to tell you... the password is 'dragon's blood'!"_

_He turned to look at Granger and the pure horror and rage on her face was comical. He knew that Granger would be furious because Pansy was a nightmare. The thought of her having the liberty to come into the Head's dorm whenever she pleased, was awful even to him. Throwing a trademark smirk at her, he turned around and strutted into the room, slamming the portrait into the hate filled face of Granger and the satisfied face of Parkinson. _

After that night, Granger had kept her distance from him, seemingly always on guard. But earlier tonight, she had burst into the common room and her face showed real pain and emotion. He had made a nasty remark, but she has simply ignored him. What was wrong with her? He pushed that thought out of his mind, and quite suddenly remembered that the Heads had patrol duty that night. He pushed himself off of his bed with a soft thud, and strolled over to Granger's room, from which she had not emerged all evening. He knocked on the door once, eliciting no response, and so he knocked again, this time getting a muffled sob.

"Can't you just leave me alone Malfoy?" her strangled voice asked.

"I would, but if I get caught patrolling without your filthy blood, it will be my fault." he replied, exhausted. His day had been anything but restful.

The door swung open with a loud bang and a frazzled Hermione Granger darted out of the room, slamming into him. Surprised, Draco grabbed onto Hermione for support and, instead of righting himself, fell over, pulling her on top of him. With a muffled gasp, she rolled off of him, furiously blushing and offered him a hand up. Draco shoved himself off the floor ignoring her hand, and walked past her out the door. She quietly followed, still sniffing occasionally. They walked down the corridor and into the night filled hallways of Hogwarts. The portraits muttered among themselves, creating a slightly spooky atmosphere. Draco and Hermione awkwardly walked together, not sure if they should walk beside each other or separate. When their patrol was over, they traced back to the common room.

"Good night," Hermione hesitantly said before turning to the stairs that lead up to their bedrooms.

"We have to share a common room, but we are not friends," Draco spat.

He pushed past her and darted up the stairs, slamming the door to his bedroom. Draco wearily collapsed onto his bed, eyes drifting shut. As the dark depths of sleep grasped at his brain, a sharp tap of his window jerked him awake. He dragged himself out of bed and opened it to let an owl swoop in. Removing the note from the owl's leg he read,

_We have a meeting tonight at midnight. Do not disappoint me. _

_-Lucius_

Midnight, that gave him exactly...2 minutes to be there. _Two minutes. Two minutes. Two- oh Merlin. _

With a start, Draco ran to the fireplace, threw in floo powder, and mumbled "Malfoy Manor." With a whoosh, he was transported to the manor. He arrived in the grand entrance hall, the paintings murmuring in displeasure at the sudden brightness of the fire. Draco sprinted down the hall, knowing the punishments of being late. He halted before the large oak doors at the end, nervous to walk in and face another meeting. Sighing, he smoothed down his hair and entered. A long table dominated the room, around which were seated many people, all with the same dead look in their eyes and tattoo on their arms. At the head of the table sat the Dark Lord, as vile as ever, and to his right was Lucius Malfoy, regal and cold. Draco bowed and walked over to sit by his father, maintaining a look of indifference.

"Now that we are all here," the Dark Lord began in a dangerously soft voice, "We can begin. That _fool, _Dumbledore, thinks he can keep Potter safe. But I have a new plan: more death eaters. Loyal death eaters...unlike so many of you. "

_New recruits? As much as Potter deserves to be brought down, no one deserves to be a death eater. _

The meeting went on and on until the sun came up. They were dismissed and Draco, even more tired than before, stumbled back to Hogwarts and his warm and comfortable bed. But when he shuffled into the common room, he was surprised to see Granger sprawled on the couch, mouth open, chest rising and falling in steady even breaths. What was she doing? Too tired, to think about her, he shrugged, walking back to his room. He never made it. His spent energy allowed him to go further. He collapsed onto the floor and let the peacefulness of sleep overtake him.

**Author's Note: There may be some confusion as to the layout of the Heads' dorm. The Head Boy (Malfoy) and the Head Girl (Hermione) share one dorm. They have one common room with one staircase. At the top of the staircase, there are two rooms: one to the left and one to the right. Hermione's is on the right and Draco's is on the left. They each have their own bathrooms. **


	3. Important Announcements

**Author's Note: Thank you to my amazing beta AdamineTerra. Hope you enjoy the story!**

**Chapter Three: Important Announcements **

_**Hermione (September 18, 7:43 a.m.)**_

The sun filtering in through the windows woke Hermione the next morning. With a yawn, she blinked her eyes sleepily and glanced around her.

_I must have fallen asleep on the couch after waiting for Malfoy to get back. Where was he last night?_

Hermione got up to prepare for classes that day when she noticed a limp body sleeping on the red carpet. It was Malfoy she realized, after seeing the bleached blond hair. A jolt of worry went through her, but she brushed it aside and ran up the stone steps to shower. The warm water washed away all the soreness of sleeping on the couch. After getting ready and packing her bag, Hermione headed downstairs. She was about to leave for breakfast when she saw that Malfoy still had not woken up.

She walked over to him, kicked him in the face, and smiled as his sleepy and indignant cries followed her out of the room.

At breakfast, she seated herself between Ron and Harry. When they started talking about quidditch, she tuned out and started to eat her breakfast. All at once the room fell silent, and looked at the head table. Dumbledore stood and started to speak.

"Good morning students. I hope you all slept well last night. I have a very important announcement to make. The teachers would have liked me to have waited to explain everything at dinner, but I feel it would be more beneficial for you to hear it this morning. In order to-"

At that moment he was cut off by the owls swooping in to the Great Hall with the morning mail. Dumbledore folded his hands and waited patiently for the mail to be delivered and for the students to quiet themselves. Once order was restored, he continued with his speech.

"As I was saying, war is on the horizon. As a magical community, it is important that we create strong bonds between each other, so that when war does come, we are prepared. So, we will be having a small competition between four of the magical schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts."

Dumbledore paused again to allow the students to discuss this new information between themselves. After a moment, he proceeded once more.

"There will be four events in this competition. Each school will host one event. These events will test everything from magical ability to physical strength. A male and a female representative will be chosen to compete for each school. They, along with a friend they choose to travel with, will go to all the schools and compete in each event. At the end of the competition, all students in sixth and seventh year from all schools are invited to attend a Masquerade Ball. The prize for the winner will be an extra year of education at any school you wish to go to and 500 galleons prize money. This is also a good opportunity to find the person who has a fate necklace matching yours. I know most of the seventh years are in the middle of that unit now. You do not sign up for this competition. All sixth and seventh years are automatically entered. The two competitors will be announced tomorrow at dinner. Representatives from other schools will arrive in one week and the first competition will begin. Now, pip-pip! Classes begin in five minutes."

The entire hall erupted in excited chatter.

"Wow," Ron dreamily sighed, "I hope I get chosen. All that money..."

"Money!" Hermione exclaimed, "What about the extra year of education at ANY school?"

They left the hall arguing over the better prize and only stopped when Harry awkwardly tapped Hermione's shoulder. They had arrived at the History of Magic classroom. Ron grabbed Hermione's waist and pulled her into the class. Professor Binns drearily looked up as they entered and then started talking about fate necklaces yet again. Hermione dutifully took notes, but her insides were in knots.

_What if what everyone says is true? What if I don't have a soul mate? No one really seems to like me...Well, except for Ron, but I know he can't be my soul mate. _

Her limp hand dropped the quill she was holding and drew her out of her thoughts. Blushing, she picked up her quill and ignored the looks Ron and Harry were giving her.

When class was over, she ignored Ron and Harry's banter and went to her dormitory. Some peace and quiet would definitely make her feel better. However, when she arrived at the common room, she was dismayed to find Draco lounging on the couch.

_Does he ever leave the couch?!_

Even more surprising was his lack of insults and sneers. Instead, when she walked in, he sat straight up and looked her right in the eye.

"Granger," he said.

"Malfoy," she coolly replied.

"We need to talk."

She warily sat on the armchair across from him and watched him carefully, unsure what to do.

"Why were you sleeping on the couch last night?" he asked.

Laughing, Hermione answered, "You left last night to go somewhere. I wanted to know where and why. Did you like your wake up this morning?"

"Oh yes. I'm still laughing over the brilliance of it," he sarcastically said. "But I'm not going to tell you where I went."

"Great." Hermione stood up and walked away.

"You're giving up that easily?" Malfoy called.

"Yes. I'm rather bored with this whole conversation." She replied over her shoulder.

_Of course I'm not giving up that easily. I'm Hermione Granger after all. But, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of berating me. Ohhh, no. I'm always happy to have an extra project, although stalking Malfoy is not exactly what I had in mind..._

Hermione was smiling all throughout dinner and even afterwards as she walked up to her room. When she walked through her door, her smile disappeared and a wave of fear swept through her. There was someone sitting on her bed, and he did not look happy.


	4. The Champions

**Author's Note: Thank you to my amazing betas AdamineTerra and A Muffin with a Mission. I would be lost without them. Also, it is finals week at my school. Yay! (Just kidding ughh). As a result, I won't be writing or posting at all this week and probably next week. So sorry. Have a lovely day and don't forget to review!**

**Chapter Four: The Champions**

_**Draco (September 18, 7:58 a.m.)**_

Draco was woken up by a foot in his face. Not the best way to start a morning. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his face and hoping to Merlin that he wouldn't bruise. He got dressed and started to head down to breakfast before he realized that he didn't have time to eat.

_I guess I'll skip breakfast...again._

Draco, face throbbing, walked into Transfiguration and plopped down into a chair, too tired to care where he sat. The room was alive with excited energy.

_Ughh. What is with these people? It's just Transfiguration. _

"Draco," a timid voice from his right blurted out his name.

He turned to find Parkinson sitting next to him. Her eyes were swollen and her face was tired. The once bold and brash girl had been reduced to an even uglier (How was that possible?) and smaller version of herself. What was wrong with her?

"Parkinson," he coldly replied. He knew what was bothering her-it was at the tip of his tongue-but his brain still wasn't awake.

McGonagall walked in and started blabbing about preparing for some competition and private training for some champion. Desperate to get answers, Draco reluctantly turned to Parkinson.

"What is she talking about?" he whispered.

Parkinson turned to him with a confused face. "What do you mean?"

"What. Competition. Is. McGonagall. Talking. About."

"Weren't you at breakfast?" Her face was lined with confusion.

"What? No."

"Oh. So basically there's a competition between four wizarding school. Two competitors are randomly selected to compete. Competition with competitors competing. So yeah."

_A competition!? When did that happen? Oh, the Dark Lord is NOT going to be happy. _

Draco spent the rest of the day, and the next one, worrying over the tournament. If he was chosen to compete, he could escape the Dark Lord. However, one misstep would mean the end of Draco. He barely ate dinner and thought he would explode with anxiety when Dumbledore stood up and began his speech.

"I trust that you have all had a good day...I will now announce the two students that will contend in the tournament. These students have been chosen based on their mental and physical strength, as well as their logical thinking and ability to do well in a crisis. Without further ado, the female representative for Hogwarts is...Hermione Granger!"

_No surprise there. She's the smartest witch of the age, or so they say. Even I can't deny that._

"And the male representative for Hogwarts is...Draco Malfoy!"

Murmurs erupted throughout the hall, but Draco couldn't make out anything. His brain was numb and his body was frozen.

_Me?...I'm going to compete in the tournament? Why? But I don't even know what it is... Me?_

"Congratulations to the winners! Now off to bed, or you will be falling asleep in class tomorrow."

Draco sat dully at the Slytherin table as all the students rose to go to bed. And then it came to him.

_I'll just ask Granger about the whole competition. She's bound to have read some book on this or something. Know-it-all._

With that thought fresh in his mind, he sprinted up to their common room. He arrived just as Granger was stepping through the portrait.

He followed after her into the room and, motioning from Granger to do the same, he settled onto the couch. Granger perched beside him.

"Listen here Granger. I-" All of the sudden, he noticed that Granger looked different. Her normally bright eyes were far-away and vacant. Bags resided underneath them, large purple bruises. She was hunched over and her hands were tightly clenched in her lap.

_Bloody girls. They are all having some sort of issue this week. Granger, Parkinson. Maybe the teachers will be in on it next. _

He snapped his fingers in front of her expressionless face until she jerked out of her daze.

"What?" she snapped.

_Merlin, this is going to be more difficult than planned. _

"I need your...your...help," he carefully said, cringing at every word, "I have no idea what this tournament is about. Since we are now...how do you say it?...partners, we should work together." His insides churned at the admission.

Granger shrugged and explained the rules of the contest. She sat vacantly on the couch after her outpour of information.

_The Dark Lord isn't going to be pleased. What if he hurts my mother? And the competition by itself is going to be hard work. _

Emotions welled up inside of Draco and he struggled to keep them in check. What was wrong with him? This was twice in three days. He jumped up and flew up the stairs. Scribbling a quick note to his father, he struggled to compose himself. Unable to keep his emotions in balance any longer, he jumped in bed and burrowed under the duvet.

A soft knock sounded on his door.

"Go away," he mumbled.

The door squeaked open, door knob protesting the motion, and Granger appeared. She awkwardly stood in the doorway, seemingly unsure of what to do. Coming to a decision, she timidly stepped into the room. Her voice was raw and harsh when she spoke.

"You were right. We should work together. But in order to do that, we need to be honest with each other." Here she hesitated, as if afraid of what would come out her mouth next.

"What's wrong? You have been missing on certain nights and have been tired all the time. You have this mask up and right now its gone. I want to know why."

_Is Granger taking pity on me? Like I am going to take that from a filthy mudblood. But she is surprisingly observant. Something is wrong with her. She would never do something like this. So maybe I should take the opportunity to tell her everything? No. That would ruin everything. I could be jeopardizing my family's safety...and the Dark Lord's plan. I just won't say anything, maybe she'll go away. _

There was a long moment of silence. Then he felt a gentle hand rest upon the covers, right where his shoulder was.

"I understand if you don't want to talk. But I'm just across the hall if you want to," her understanding voice whispered.

He heard her leave and lay under the covers, stunned.

_Granger, of all people, was being kind to him. Something was definitely amiss with her. _

He lay in his bed until the depths of sleep overwhelmed him and he relaxed into its waiting arms.

**Author's Note: I apologize for not explaining who was sitting on Hermione's bed. It will be revealed next chapter. If I am moving to fast, please tell me. I greatly appreciate all reviews, good and bad. **


	5. Love Unites

**Author's Note: Thank you to my wonderful betas AdamineTerra and A Muffin With a Mission. I'm sorry I haven't written in so long. Life has been complicated. I have a lot of ideas for my story though, so I will try to update soon. Feel free to ask questions and enjoy!**

**Chapter Five: Love Unites**

_**Hermione (September 19, 7:39 a.m.)**_

Confused and groggy, Hermione woke the next morning. What had happened last night? In an instant it all came rushing back to her. What had she been thinking?

_Better be extra mean to Malfoy today or he might start to get the wrong idea. But why was I acting like that in the first place? Right...Harry..._

She thought back the the night before last, during which she had walking in to see Harry sitting on her bed.

_He was sitting on her bed, his face a stone cold mask. When the door hit the wall, he was startled out of his reverie and he looked at her, a wary smile spreading across his face. _

"_Hey 'Mione. Can we talk?" He asked._

Didn't I just have this conversation with Malfoy?

"_Sure, Harry. Make it quick though. I have to finish Flitwick's essay."_

"_The one he assigned today? That isn't due until-never mind. The reason I'm here is to talk about you. Lately, you've been really down. Is there something wrong?"_

"_No...Nothing...Well maybe. I'm assuming you know about Ron and I?"_

"_Of course."_

"_I don't know why I agreed to go out with him. It's like dating my brother."_

"_That's...weird. Why did you even agree to go out with him?"_

"_I didn't know what else to say. I didn't want to ruin our friendship."_

"_You know that it will just be awkward when you break up with him."_

"If, _Harry. _If_."_

"_You can't honestly expect this relationship to continue for ever? If you don't like him, tell him."_

"_Well, I can't. Now I really must write this essay, so if you will excuse me."_

_With this Hermione curtly walked over to her desk and pulled out a parchment roll, her movements stiff and over exaggerated. Harry sighed and stood up. When he reached the door, however, he turned around. _

"_Hermione. I know that isn't all, but if you say it is, that's fine. I really think you should talk to Ron though..."_

_He hesitated, brushing his messy black hair off his forehead. Reaching a decision, he left the room, gently shutting the door behind him. Hermione flopped onto her bed. She was exhausted and unsure of what she had just said. _

He just wanted to help. Maybe I should have told him. Nope. I made the right choice. Okay good. Essay time.

_She hopped off of her bed and confidently walked over to her desk to begin the essay. _

What a stressful encounter. Maybe that's why she had been so nice to Malfoy last night.

She jumped out of bed, pulled on her black robes, and was about to exit her room when a loud pop echoed through the room. Behind her a magnificent orange and red bird appeared.

"Fawkes!" she gasped.

Clutched in his talons were two small, white scrolls. She untied one and reached for the other. Fawkes gave a high screech and popped out of the room, slightly singing everything in the vicinity. Another pop echoed, quieter this time, followed by a cry of "What the hell?"

_Ahh. The other scroll must have been for Malfoy. _

With a small smirk on her face, Hermione unrolled the scroll and began to read:

_Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, _

_I request that you meet me in my office at once. Breakfast will be served._

_Best wishes,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. Please bring some Lemon Drops. _

Hermione jumped into action and ran out the door, bumping into Malfoy, who was coming out of his room.

"I love the new hairstyle Mudblood," Malfoy jeered, "It really shows off the ugliness of your face."

Hermione realized she had forgotten to brush her hair, but she was in a hurry. It didn't matter. She quickly pulled it into a ponytail and then sprinted out of the room, purposely tripping Malfoy. She arrived at Dumbledore's office minutes later, with Malfoy close on her heels.

"What's...the...pass...word," Malfoy breathlessly asked.

"Lemon drops, obviously," Hermione replied, the contempt evident in her voice.

"What?"

"The postscript. Did you even read the whole letter?"

"Of course I did. But that old loon is crazy. How was I supposed to know that was the password?"

Hermione stepped into the staircase that led to Dumbledore's office and, reaching the top, knocked with three sharp taps.

"Enter," said Dumbledore's voice from inside his chambers.

Malfoy glared at her as they walked inside. Dumbledore was seated at his polished desk, wise face smiling.

"Good morning Miss Granger. Good morning Mr. Malfoy. I trust that you received my letter this morning."

"No really," Malfoy malevolently muttered, "Why else would we be here?"

Dumbledore merely smiled and gestured for them to sit in two plush chairs before his desk.

"I have called you here for important matters," Dumbledore began, "I will waste no time in explaining as you have classes soon. I am sure you are wondering why you were both chosen for the tournament. It seems like such an unlikely pairing. I have two reasons. The first: inter-house unity. Gryffindor and Slytherin have been feuding since Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin founded Hogwarts. I believe that you two are the strongest candidates to bring peace between your houses. My second reason is as follows. I know you have been learning about fate necklaces in class. What you do not learn, is that each necklace gives off a certain...magical aura, depending on the witches or wizards capability to love. Your necklaces both radiate this strong magic. I believe that you can succeed in this tournament because of your ability to love. Don't give me that look Mr. Malfoy. It's more complicated that it seems. Through love, you will be able to unite your houses and bring glory to Hogwarts."

_Malfoy can love? Well, I guess he's part human after all. _

Hermione and Malfoy stared daggers at each other.

"Granger," Malfoy spat, as he stood to leave.

"Malfoy," she returned, her eyes fiery with hatred.

They left the room together, their bickering echoing up to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk and softly.

"If only they knew," he said, his blue eyes twinkling.


	6. The Fight That Started it All

**Author's Note: Thanks to my wonderful beta A Muffin with a Mission. I would like to clarify that this was written to be in Hermione's/Draco's sixth year. I know that it is unconventional that they be appointed as Head Boy/Girl (as only the seventh years may have this honor bestowed upon them), but Dumbledore has his reasons. Feel free to ask any questions if you are confused. :)**

**Chapter Six: The Fight that Started it All**

_**Draco (September 25, 7:45 p.m.)**_

Draco stood shivering on the sweeping stone steps of Hogwarts, waiting for the representatives from the other schools to arrive. It was dusk and the setting sun cast frightening shadows across the neat lawn. The other Hogwarts students stood chatting among themselves, too excited to mind the frigid cold. Draco closed his eyes and pictured the feast that was waiting for him. The loud conversation dulled to a whisper as he faded into a dream of piles of mashed potatoes and roasted corn and chicken and...

"There's something in the sky!" cried one of the students, breaking Draco mind out of his happy thoughts.

"Idiots," he murmured, though he looked up at the sky. In the far distance, a small shape was flying, growing larger by the second. It was the Beauxbatons carriage, he soon realized, identical to the one brought to Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. The large horses gracefully landed in front of the school and the light blue carriage rolled to a stop behind them. The first and second years were more excited than the other the students, shouting and pointing. The rest of the students turned towards the lake, now expected the Durmstrang ship to rise from its depths. Sure enough, the bow of the ghostly ship appeared minutes later, followed by the rest of the ship and its students. The students of Hogwarts politely clapped and graciously parted to allow the Beauxbatons students to pass through them.

_Isn't there one more school? Something to do with...No idea. _

Bam! A ear-splitting noise echoed across the grounds followed by bursts of vibrant lights in the sky. Fireworks. Fireworks that filled the sky until it looked like a patchwork quilt, composed of squares of green and blue and orange. From the mist a silver dragon emerged. Its powerful wings ruffled the grass on the lawn and the smoke curling from its nostrils added the smoke let off by the fireworks. With a thump it landed on the lawn and as the smoke slowly cleared, Draco could see people hopping off its back.

_Well that was dramatic. Wait...That's it! The Wizarding School for Dramatic Arts! _

The Durmstrang students reached the steps at the same moment as the Dramatic Arts kids did and they both paused, unsure of who to let pass. The Durmstrang students marched up the steps first, but not with the same flourish as the Dramatic Arts representatives. The Hogwarts students entered last, chattering excitedly about the new students and the feast to come.

The feast that night was enormous. Dumbledore had made a boring speech welcoming the students from the other school. Draco tuned him out until he mentioned the competition for the next day. It was an obstacle course, whatever that meant. Draco was too busy stuffing his face to really pay attention. Stuffed and content, Draco walked back to the Head's room.  
"Dragon's blood," he said to the portrait of the wrinkled old man.

He stepped inside, fully intending to go straight to bed, when something tackled him and he fell onto the ground.

"What the-" he hissed, only to be cut off by the tiny hand that covered his mouth.

Granger was on top of him, pinning him to the floor. She glanced down at him, then uncovered his mouth slowly.

"There's someone in your room," she mouthed.

"What? Why did you attack me?" he demanded.

"You need to be quiet! There is someone in your room!"

"So what? It's probably one of my friends or something."

"I don't think so. There was a lot of crashing noises, like things breaking. It's been quiet for a little while, though."

"Then get off me and let me go investigate Granger."

Blushing she rolled off of Draco and quietly stood up, having the decency to look embarrassed. Draco rose, brushed off his robes, and fixed his hair. With a pointed look at Granger, he turned and marched up the stairs to his room. He opened his door and there she was. Pansy Parkinson, sitting on his floor, face red, tears streaming down her face. _All_ of his belongings were thrown on his floor and _all _of them were damaged. His clothes were torn, the pages were ripped out of his books, and his quills were all snapped.

"Merlin!" Malfoy exclaimed, rage flooding through him.

"Oh Draco!" Pansy cried, tears pouring out in copious amounts.

"What the hell Pansy?"  
"I'm sorry. It's just...It's just I was mad at you for dumping me. So I snuck in here and made a little mess."

"Little?!"

"I know I know. I'm so sorry. I got carried away."

"You think?"

"I missed you so much Drakie and I know that this is a long shot, but I want to get back together."

"Oh my god. You cannot be serious. I ONLY DATED YOU BECAUSE I HAD TO! Do you honestly think that anyone would want to date you otherwise?! No! I dated you to get on my father's good side. That's it."

"But Drakie! You said you loved me!"

"Because I was forced to."

"Your father couldn't have forced you to date me!"

"Yes he did Pansy. You of all people should know what I'm talking about. We are from pure blooded families. Our parents will do anything to keep our bloodline clean."

"At least your parents love you!"

"Love me? My parents NEVER loved me! Love is weakness and anytime you show weakness you are beat into submission."

"I...know. I know it's hard. I'm so sorry Draco. I wasn't thinking."

Draco felt his anger ebb and he knew that he couldn't keep on yelling much longer.

"Listen Pansy, I know you want to get back together, but it's not going to happen."

"Yeah. Ok. Draco?

"Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure you must hate me now and I'm positive you hated me before, but I've changed. I'm willing to accept that we can't date, but can we at least stay friends?"

Draco thought for a minute, then reached out and enveloped her into a hug. They had been friends since birth and he wasn't going to let that go, even though he was mad at her. She was the only person he could be himself around.

"Of course we can be friends," he murmured, "Now go clean yourself up."

Pansy walked into the bathroom, still sniffling, but more calm. Draco reached for his wand so that he could repair his broken possessions, but his pocket was empty.

_It must have gotten knocked out of my pocket when Granger tackled me. Idiot mudblood. _

Draco stalked out of the room and bumped into Granger who was standing outside of his room, wide-eyed and stunned.

"How much did you hear?" Draco immediately demanded.

"Everything," she replied, her eyes full of sympathy.

Draco didn't think, he did not stop to consider the consequences. He slapped her right across her awful pitying face.

"How dare you listen into a private conversation? You've crossed the line mudblood! You have always been the most idiotic know-it-all. Don't you have any self-respect? You should just leave Hogwarts because obviously no one wants you here!"

Draco stormed downstairs and snatched his wand up, fuming. Stomping back upstairs, he paused outside his room to search for Granger. She was gone. Good. He opened his door and joined Pansy in cleaning up the mess that she had made. Though, as hard as he worked, he couldn't block out the heavy sobbing pouring out of Granger's room.

_There's nothing I can do. She hates me. _

"Pansy, I can finish cleaning this up. You should go," Draco said, pushing Pansy towards the door.

"Of course. Goodnight Draco. I'm glad we're friends again."

Draco waited until he heard the soft clicking of the portrait and then, against all better judgement, he crossed the hall and entered Hermione's room.

**Author's Note: The Wizarding School for the Dramatic Arts is an actual school (**** wiki/Wizarding_Academy_of_Dramatic_Arts****). It is a serious school meant to educate wizards on the performing arts. There is no real story or explanation to the school in the books or online, so I will be writing about the school how I imagined it. Thank you for taking the time to read my story! **


	7. The First Event

**Author's Note: Thank you to my editors (AdamineTerra and A Muffin With a Mission) and to all you wonderful people who are still reading my story. I am determined to finish this story, so I will keep writing and updating whenever I can. Please leave comments for me so that I can improve my future chapters. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Seven: The First Event**

_**Hermione (September 25, 11:35 p.m.)**_

Hermione lay on her bed, shivering, as tears poured down her face. Her heart and soul ached as everything that had happened in the last few months came rippling out. She curled up into a ball and tried to pull her body even tighter together, as if it would draw back the missing pieces of her heart. Why did everything have to be so hard? She was supposed to be this perfect person: top of the class, happy all the time. Why couldn't she keep it together?

She heard her door click open and she whispered, "Go away," in a faltering voice to whoever was at the door. There was a slight pause and then the door closed once more, leaving her more alone than before. Hermione lay on her bed, so tired of being sad, so exhausted with life. She slowly rose from her bed and shuffled to her desk, unsure of what to do. On instinct, she pulled a piece of parchment and a quill from a desk drawer, leaving it open as she was too miserable to close it. She dipped the sharp point of the quill into the black ink and began to write, her jumbled words juxtaposed by her elegant handwriting. Before she knew it, she was writing letters to everyone who had ever hurt her, full of anger and sorrow, pouring out everything that was tearing her apart. She wrote to Malfoy, for his harsh words and the years of torment, to her parents, for leaving her stranded in a world where she was already an outcast, to Ron for asking her on a date, and finally to herself for being so foolish as to believe that she could actually work with Malfoy on this tournament problem. When she was done, she slid each letter into an envelope and dripped golden wax onto the front, trapping away her problems. Her heart loosened just a bit as she wrote names on the envelopes, fastening them to the bottom of her desk with a Sticking charm, never to be read by anyone but her. Hermione wearily trod back to her bed and snuggled under the covers with a sort of relief that wasn't complete, but enough for now. As her eyelids fluttered shut and sleep began to fill her mind, her last thought was of her parents, smiling and waving at her through the veil of death.

The next morning Hermione rose and smiled at the sun as it peeked through her window, signaling the beginning of a new day. Her head felt clearer than it had in a long while and she felt a certain energy and excitement run through her at the thought of the tournament. At the base of her four poster bed lay a pair of sleek black pants and a matching long sleeve shirt with a hogwarts crest embroidered on the back. A note lay on top with a simple "Your uniform for the tournament," written across it. She slipped into them, then practically skipped down the stairs for breakfast. When she arrived at the Great Hall, she slid into a spot in between Harry and Ron, who slung his lanky arm around her shoulder.

"Morning-" Harry grinned, turning towards her, "What happened to your face?"

Confused, Hermione reached a hand up and touched her cheek, wincing as she touched the obviously bruised skin. Malfoy's slap must have been more powerful than she realized.

"It's nothing. Just tripped on the way to breakfast this morning," she replied, casting a quick Glamour charm to cover it up.

She began to pile her plate up with food, ignoring Harry's concerned look, when McGonagall strode up to her.

"Mrs. Granger, all the competitors are assembling out by the quidditch pitch, preparing for today's competition. I suggest you join them."

A jolt of panic ran through Hermione as she jumped up, upsetting the table, and stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth. With a nod to McGonagall, she sprinted out of the castle and down to the quidditch locker rooms. Her competitors were all positioned around the room: the Beauxbatons were huddled into a corner, whispering, while the Durmstrang students were standing in the center of the room, looking imperiously at everyone else. Malfoy was sitting on a bench, a picture of calm, except for his foot, which was tapping furiously against the floor. The Dramatic Arts students were the only exception to this somber mood, cheerfully smiling and laughing as if not a care in the world. Hermione took a deep breath and sat next to Malfoy, determined to remain cool until she found the perfect moment to give him hell for last night. As the minutes ticked by, Hermione found herself wishing more and more that she could escape the tension in the room and breath some fresh air. The beginning of the tournament drew near as the sound of feet stamping on wood and excited chatter filled the room; the students began to enter the stands. The door to the locker room swung open suddenly and Dumbledore, dressed in flowing robes of blue, swept into the room.

"Good morning students and welcome to the first event of the tournament. Today you will be competing in an obstacle course. What this entails exactly, I cannot say. However, you can be assured that it will be both physically and magically challenging. You will enter the pitch in pairs, with your school partner of course, and attempt to complete the race as fast as possible. Your score will be based upon how quickly you can finish. You must work together to solve everything thrown at you, as your time will only be stopped when both of you have crossed the finish line. The order of schools is as follows. First will be Beauxbatons, followed by Durmstrang, the School for Dramatic Arts, and finally Hogwarts. Best of luck to you all."

Dumbledore exited the room with a wink, closing the wooden door with a click as he left. A large crashing gong sounded in the distance, followed by an echoing roar from the students, and the representatives from Beauxbatons carefully standing up and sweeping out into the stadium through a shiny metal door. As the minutes trickled by, Hermione reviewed charms and spells in her head, muttering to herself as she attempted to order everything in her head by importance. When the gong clanged once more, the Durmstrang students grunted and left the room, and when it resounded around the room yet again, the students from the School for Dramatic arts bounced out of the room. Only she remained in the room, unless you counted Malfoy as a person, which Hermione really didn't. Then the final bell sounded: time for her to compete.

Hermione drew her slender wand out of her pocket, glanced at Malfoy, and then stepped out of the locker room. The glaring sunlight blinded her and she was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people cheering from the bleachers. The quidditch pitch had taken a dramatic turn from what it usually was. Gone was the perfectly manicured grass, usually painted with neat white lines. Gone were the towering golden hoops that had stood regally at either end of the field.

Instead the quidditch pitch had been converted into what seemed to be a gravel running track, blocked at certain points by a variety of creatures and enchantments. Beasts from all over the track spit fire high into the sky or glaring menacingly at her, as if daring her to try and beat them. Hermione stepped up to the starting line and apprehensively stared at the first hurdle that lay before her: an immense climbing wall, covered in a red and white slime which Hermione instantly recognized to be some form of a Baneberry potion, extremely poisonous and something to be avoided at all costs.

Trying to calm her shaking hands, Hermione crouched and waited for the event to begin. A loud horn blasted across the stadium and Hermione began to sprint towards the wall, unable to hear anything but the pounding of her heart. She was so focused on calming her nerves that she almost ran into the wall, a dangerous mistake.

_What should I do? Which spell?_

Hermione quickly cast a shield charm and watched as it shimmered in the air, dark blue yet transparent. Then she began to climb. One hand over the other. Changing her feet from one foot hold to the next. _Thud. Thud. _Her heart beat in rhythm with the movement of her hands. Below her, she could hear Malfoy starting to climb the wall as well and, even though they were supposed to be working together, she felt a strong desire to beat him at this competition and in everything else that followed. She started climbing faster and faster and then suddenly she was at the top and sweeping down the other side, landing back on the track with a crash, causing a plume of dust to surround her and slightly blur her vision. The loud booming voice of the announcer was in the background of everything, doing a poor job of keeping pace with the speed of Hermione as she raced to the next obstacle.

A screech ripped through the air as Hermione skidded to a stop in front of an enormous griffin. Half eagle, half lion and entirely terrifying, the griffin rose up onto its hind legs and opened its beak to let out another ear-splitting scream. Hermione cast the first spell that came to her mind: the Incendio charm. The griffin appeared unaffected by it and charged Hermione, feathered head bent low to the ground.

"Confundus!" came a shout from behind Hermione.

The griffin stopped mid-charge and galloped of the track, wandering helplessly into the grass and flopping down with a large, malcontented sigh.

"Malfoy," Hermione growled and she sprinted ahead, now looking at Malfoy's annoyingly blond hair bouncing as he ran ahead of her.

The next obstacle was more challenging than the previous, and Hermione worked to overcome it as best as she could. The sound of the crunching gravel echoed in her ears as she gasped for breath, so unused to running this much. As Hermione and Malfoy worked to beat each new obstacle, she became increasingly more frustrated. No matter what she did, it seemed that Malfoy always did the opposite, trying to counter her out of spite. At one point, he even tripped her, sending her sprawling onto the sharp gravel and causing her to lose precious seconds of the tournament. After what seemed like hours of scrambling and casting and jumping and running, Hermione saw the finish line glinting temptingly in the sun, past one more obstacle. Just one more obstacle and she was free to go back to the warm comfort of the castle. The mist ahead didn't look too foreboding, but Hermione knew better than to trust first impressions. Still, the prospect of leaving this horrible tournament override her cation and she charged into the glittering blue mist. At once her head grew as light as a fluffy white cloud and her limbs felt as if they were floating in the air. All Hermione wanted to do was sink into the soft mist and take a long quiet nap. She felt her knees turn to jelly as she collapsed onto the ground. Eyes fluttering, heart pounding, she groped for her wand, trying to cast one more spell. Blackness filled her vision and she lifted a shaking hand into the air, trying to grasp something, anything, that would bring her back to reality.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her arm and started to drag her out of the mist, pulling her across the tiny, dagger-like rocks that covered the track. The cool mist whipped across her face, leaving it burned and raw. Then blinding sunlight hit her face and the world began to come into focus as Hermione shook off the stinging mist and the crushing weight that had settled onto her mind. The crowd was screaming with excitement and as she glanced around she saw that she had crossed the finish line and Malfoy was the one who had helped her across it. She regained her footing and stood erect, looking at the crowd where she could see Ron and Harry jumping and waving at her. Next to her Malfoy was standing with a bold arrogance, chest puffed out and the green stripe on his uniform glinting. Hermione stood, exhausted yet ecstatic, with only one thought running through her mind: "We did it."


	8. Moonlight

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! Now that school is finished for the summer, I'm hoping to write a lot more frequently. Hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave a review!**

**Chapter Eight: Moonlight**

_**Draco (October 17, 9:38)**_

The first event was over, with the students from Beauxbatons in the lead. When Draco had walked to the Slytherin common rooms that night (in a desperate attempt to get away from Granger), there was no warm welcome waiting for him. Only harsh glares and snide comments berating him for having helped a Gryffindor, who was a Mudblood no less. The next days were no easier and Draco couldn't wait to leave for the next event.

Two weeks passed in a flurry of October chill and leaves changing from deep green to orange. Draco went to classes and performed his head boy tasks with a listless energy, unable to fathom any reasons to want to be at Hogwarts. Then the day finally arrived. Today he would be leaving for Durmstrang. Originally Draco had wanted to go there for schooling, but his mother insisted he be educated at Hogwarts instead. Something about him staying close to home. The Great Hall thrummed with excitement as Draco ate breakfast and for the first time in weeks he allowed himself to feel the nervousness and excitement that had been hidden in the corners of his brain.

"Attention!" came the strict voice of McGonagall from the front of the room. "All tournament competitors and their guests please make their way to the front steps with their possessions. Everyone else please remain inside until otherwise instructed to avoid confusion. That will be all."

Guests. Draco had forgotten that each competitor was allowed to bring a friend with them. He was being ushered out of his seat by McGonagall; there was no time to ask anyone. He sulkily stomped out of the hall, ashamed to be alone. The cold air outside nipped at his nose and a thin wind whipped his hair messily around. The Beauxbatons students looked positively frozen as they scurried towards their sky blue carriage. On the contrary the line of Durmstrang students marching towards their ship looked downright cozy in their furs. As for the Dramatic Arts students, well it seemed their _happiness _was warming them as they bounced towards their sleeping dragon. What was the motto of Hogwarts? Something about a sleeping dragon? Ahhh, never tickle a sleeping dragon, Draco thought as he watched a Dramatic Arts student do just that and get a face full of smoke from the dragon's nostrils.

At the foot of the front steps was a group of broomsticks, all looking rather beaten and worse for the wear. It brought Draco back to his first flying lesson at Hogwarts, which was almost a fond memory except for _Potter _with his _broomstick _and his _scar _and the fact that he had made it on the Quidditch team. Honestly a first year on the Quidditch team? Preposterous. And he wasn't even that good.

A whistle blew right next to Draco's ear.

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his right ear.

"Listen up," yelled Madame Hooch from right beside him. "You are going to be flying to Durmstrang on broomsticks. Quit your moaning and toughen up; you're acting like a bunch of first years. Now fasten your trunks on the straps under a broomstick and wait for my whistle to take off. Have I made myself clear?"

She only received one half-hearted "yes ma'am" from Granger. The students drearily trudged towards the brooms, their cold hands already protesting against holding onto a cold stick for hours. Draco attached his trunk to a broom (what a crappy bunch of sticks) and mounted it with an exhausted swing of his leg. To his left, Hermione was helping Ron Weasley attach his trunk to a broom. Draco watched for a few dull moments, as he had nothing better to do, and let his mind wander. Then his heart jumped into his chest with excitement as he realized something: She had chosen Weasley, not Potter to go with her. No Potter for weeks, months! NO Potter! NO Potter! NO Potter! Truly the best day of his life. No Potter!

And then Potter walked out of the castle.

"What are you doing here?" Draco practically screamed in his direction, though he attempted to keep his cool. "No Potter!" was slowly fading from his mind and the triumphant applause echoing through his head a moment before went silent.

"Well, since you aren't bringing anyone, McGonagall said that I could take the empty slot. Not that it's any of your concern really," Potter replied, the malice flashing through his puke green eyes.

"No, Potter," Draco said, in a strangled voice. "It actually is my concern. I do not want you here now or ever. Leave. Now."

"Sorry, it's already been decided," he infuriatingly said as he swung his stupid self onto a broom. Draco could see the hatred in his eyes loud and clear.

"NO, Potter!" "No, Potter!" now rung through Draco's mind. Potter was the worst. There weren't enough words in the world to describe the hate he felt for him. And Potter would probably slit his throat in his sleep. He had already murdered a giant snake, and Professor Quirrell (most likely) and all those things in the maze fourth year. He was a cold blooded killer and he should definitely not be allowed near Draco, a competitor AND a pureblood at that. Ok, maybe Potter wouldn't kill him, but he still shouldn't be able to come to Durmstrang. Stupid, stupid Potter. A whistle screamed and the broomsticks rose in the air: Draco, Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Dumbledore (who looked incredibly weird on a broomstick).

The flight was uneventful, besides a few impromptu races with Potter and Dumbledore getting hit in the face with a bird. Feathers still adorned his grey beard and hair, but he did not look phased in the slightest, an almost impressive quality. The first view of Durmstrang had been breathtaking. Set in a valley created by snow capped mountains rose a sprawling jet black castle. Four stories high, it dominated the snowy landscape like an inkblot. Two mirror like lakes lay on either side of the castle, reflecting the sky and giving the school a soulless arrived at night and the star spangled sky only enhanced the sparkling white landscape, which was so expansive that it looked as if it simply melted into the horizon, blurring the inky black and the crystal white into a soft grey. The castle inside was less impressive than the outside, but still incredible. The walls were the same midnight black stone, which made him feel insignificant, unworthy, and slightly claustrophobic. It was positively freezing inside the castle halls, which were lined with helpfully uncovered windows that gaped at Draco like open wounds as he passed. There were torches every few feet providing dim light, but no heat, explaining the thick, furry uniforms of the Durmstrang students.

Draco and the others were shown to small rooms on the second floor of the castle, each containing a small bed, wardrobe, and desk. They were in the "warm part of the castle" which meant nothing other than their windows had glass panes. Draco curled up on the tiny bed and tried to contain the little body heat he had within his Hogwarts robes to no avail. He wanted to rest for the competition tomorrow, but it was impossible to sleep in such a cold room. Standing up, he pulled on an extra set of robes and decided to explore the castle. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he strode up and down the hallways, the black stone magnifying the sound of his footsteps. The brisk air actually felt nice and clean entering his lungs and he breathed in deep as he peeked his head into an empty classroom. The exercise warmed him up sufficiently and he began to feel sleepy; the broomstick ride here had really taken a toll on him and, since he hadn't eaten dinner, he needed a rest. Walking back his room, he let his thoughts wander, which he realized was a mistake when he entered a hallway that wasn't empty. Sitting on a stone window seat, tucked away into the side of the hall, sat Granger. She was in a white nightdress and her head thoughtfully rested in the palm of her hand. The dark stone of the castle and the shining moon combined to make her almost glow in all her pale glory. Mudblood, he thought and he turned to walk away when she called to him.

"Draco," she said. It was just one word, just his name, but it irresistibly pulled on him and he took a few steps towards her.

"You said my name," he warily spoke.

"Hmm? I guess I did," she replied, with a light feathery air to her voice. "It got your attention though, so it was worth it."

"What do you want Granger?" he spat, trying, trying to put malice into his voice.

"Look. I just wanted to say thank you for having my back at the tournament the other day. I'm glad we can work together on this. And I know we're supposed to hate each other, but I think it's good that we have a... a mutual understanding that we can't if we are going to win this competition."

Malfoy didn't say anything; he wanted nothing more than to fade into the black shadows of the castle, but his white blond hair and his pale skin prevented that. If only he wasn't so good looking...

"Aren't the stars beautiful?" she asked, gazing out the window. Her eyes reflected the sky and it looked as if they held the entire universe in them.

He backed away slowly and then turned and sprinted back to his room, diving into bed.

She's going as crazy as Loony Lovegood, he thought then drifted off into a shivering, restless sleep.


	9. Firebark Forest

**Author's Note: Hello to everyone! Thank you all for your reviews; they are very encouraging and it's nice to hear feedback. I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter, but thank you for your continued readership. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Nine: Firebark Forest**

_**Hermione (October 18, 7:54 a.m.)**_

Morning dawned crisp and clear, a refreshing change from the wet rain and damp cold of Hogwarts. Hermione slipped into the fur lined robe and short cape that each visiting Hogwarts student had been provided with and nervously tiptoed into the drafty halls of Durmstrang. Her mind felt as if it were wading through a pool of molasses, each thought slow and only half formed. Sleep had evaded her last night; she was too anxious and too curious to sleep. _Hopefully today's event doesn't require too much thinking _she thought to herself. She realized too late that wandering through the halls was an awful idea and she was now lost in the stone corridors, wondering where in the world the breakfast hall was. Sighing she leaned against a window and resolved that she would wait for someone to appear, for surely the castle wasn't completely devoid of humans. Luckily, her suspicions were correct and a scrawny, pale faced boy (most likely a first year) came tripping down the hall. After some brief persuading he led her to a dim lit, loud room under the castle. Square tables were strewn here and there in a haphazard manner, as boys and girls of all ages and size darted around the room, food in hand, chatting, screaming, even wrestling. In the very corner of the long, low room were the Hogwarts students. Hermione plopped down next to Harry with a sigh of relief.

"You made it!" Ron exuberantly exclaimed, leaning across the table to squeeze her hand rather awkwardly.

Hermione responded with a quick squeeze back before filling her plate up with anything she could grab from the center of the table.

"Where are the other schools' students?" she asked as she stuffed her mouth full of bread and jam.

"Well the DA students are somewhere in here I think," Harry responded, glancing around the room quickly. "Look there's one over there talking to that Durmstrang boy, and the Beauxbatons students 'declined to join us for breakfast' or something like that. I don't really remember what Dumbledore said."

"Lovely," Hermione replied. She hurriedly shoveled more food into her mouth, feeling her anxiety for the day mount.

After a few brief moments, the door to the room swung open and a short, squat man waddled into the room, his much too large robes trailing behind him in a haphazard fashion.

"A good morning to you all," he began in a loud voice that fought with the chaotic sounds of the dining room. "All students who intend on competing today, whether you are ready or not, need to leave the dining hall immediately. The rest of you may enjoy your breakfasts and then proceed outside at your leisure." He began to walk out the door, then whipped around, stumbling on his overly long robes.

"Ooops, almost forgot to tell you where to go," he said with a chortle. "The Firebark Forest. That's where you need to go. All of you. Competing or not. That would be all."

He turned once more and tripped out of the room, seemingly unaware that his robes had half fallen off of his shoulder, contributing largely to the amount of robes trailing behind him.

Hermione rose with nervousness shaking her hands and worrying her stomach. Harry and Ron both reassuringly smiled at her as she left the room, as if by smiling they could wipe away her anxiety. She walked through the halls shyly, unsure of where exactly she was going. The two Durmstrang competitors swept past her with as little warmth as the hall they were walking in. She quickened her step and followed them through numerous dank corridors before they finally emerged into the snowy outdoors. The weather was gloomy, as cumbersome clouds trudged across the sky, bringing with them a sharp wind and the promise of more snow. A path of rough red and black brick wound its way across the grounds, kept clear of snow by a couple of wizards in huge, furry black coats. The path led towards a forest of dark pine trees, covered in a dazzling white layer of snow. Hermione tugged her cape closer to her as the wind picked up, blowing the powdery top layer of snow right at her, where it caught in her hair. After what seemed like ages, she arrived at the edge of the foreboding forest, where every other competitor, four witches in red, and the fat man from earlier stood.

"Jolly good. That's everyone then," said the man, resting his pudgy hands on his round belly and turning to look at them all. "Alright, here's how today's event is going to go. Each team will be place at a certain location in the forest. The forest is divided up into four different parts, each with a different...shall we say 'theme.' Each team will be placed in one of these four parts. The goal is to get to the center of the forest, where _L'Arbre du Lumière _awaits you. Hanging on this tree are a number of different candles, each burning with a different colored flame. You must retrieve one of these candles. In order to win this event, you must gain the most points, which will be awarded based on the quickest to the tree and if the correct candle is taken from the tree. Now the question is, how do you figure out which candle is the right one? Here is where it gets complicated. In each of the four sections, there is a different tree, decorated according to the theme of that section. If you defeat the obstacle surrounding that tree, you will receive a riddle and the answer will help you towards figuring out the color of candle which you are to retrieve from _L'Arbre du Lumière._ When you have reached your section, do not begin until you hear the starting bell. It is to be emphasized that the point of this competition is teamwork and friendly competition, not winning. Now if there are no questions, you will be taken into the forest by one of these gorgeous witches standing next to me." He roguishly winked at the witches in red, who stared impassively back.

Each of the witches stepped up to a team of students and Hermione quickly found Draco and stood next to him. The witches held out both of their arms, but only the students from Durmstrang seemed to have any idea what was going on. They each grabbed an arm of one of the witches and with a crack, they had Disapparated. Tentatively, Hermione grabbed the arm of the witch nearest to her and Draco did the same. With a flash, they were gone and uncomfortably being stretched and jostled against each other until it suddenly stopped and they were standing in the middle of a desolate expanse of forest. The witch shook off their hands and then left them with another crack. The trees surrounding them were ragged and black, so black that they looked almost charred, juxtaposing the unbroken, clean snow gently blanketing the trees and ground.

"So what's our strategy?" Hermione asked, her voice strangely echoing in the silent forest. She drew her wand precautionarily against the silence.

Draco was silent for a few moments. He turned and walked a few steps away before turning around and replying "Strategy?" His voice sounded frayed and scratchy, as if it had been a long time since it was last used.

"Yeah, as in what are we planning on doing for the next hour?"  
"Whatever it takes to win," he said, his voice hard and strong once again.

"That's not very helpful," Hermione snapped.

He didn't reply. They both stood shivering in the snow, watching their breath in the chilled air. The forest was eerily quiet, no birds, no animals, no voices, only the sound of the wind rustling mysteriously through the trees. And then everything happened at once. A bell rang faintly in the distance, Hermione's muscles tensed, and noise exploded from every possible side. The wind went from a faint rustle to a thundering barrage of sound. The snow and wind were blowing from every direction, cutting into her with cold and noise and pain. She fell to the ground with a cry and felt Draco next to her do the same. Her hands were numb, her hair was whipping around her face, her body was shaking so violently that she could hardly pick up her wand from where she had dropped it.

"Ebublio!" she screamed as loud as she could, slashing her wand in a sharp circle.

As suddenly as it had started the wind stopped. She and Draco were encased in a purple bubble resting lightly on top of the snow, keeping out all wind, snow, and noise. Hermione knelt on the snow, shivering and panting, trying to regain control of herself. When her breathing had slowed, she slowly looked up at Draco.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

He nodded, a wild, panicked look in his silver eyes. All stiffness and distance was erased in his fear, replaced only with a raw and nervous exterior.

"What are we going to do?"  
He gazed at her for a moment, breathing heavily and then sat up.

"That's a great question," he replied.

"Well we need to find the tree with the riddle first. They wouldn't just put us in the middle of nowhere and expect us to find a random tree without a clue right? Think. Think. What clues do we have?"

"Aren't the trees supposed to relate to the theme of our section?" mumbled Draco.

"You're right!" she exclaimed. "So the tree has to have something to do with snow or wind or storm. Now how do we find a tree themed like that?"

They were both silent in thought for a few moments before it hit her like a rock to the head.

"If all the trees in this forest are black, wouldn't one that's say, snow themed be white?"

Draco slowly nodded at first, then exuberantly.

"I think I know the spell too. Let's try it. _Alba Situ Revelare," _she said, raising her wand and slashing it towards the ground. Instantly, a golden trail shimmered across the top of the snow leading out into the forest.

"Does this bubble move?" Draco questioned, as he hesitantly poked the hard, purple bubble surrounding them.

"I think so. It shouldn't leave until I perform the counterspell."

They both took one step forward, minds moving in unison. The bubble moved slightly forward with them. Then they took off, almost running, stumbling across the snow, following the glimmering trail. The trees rushed by in a blackened blur, the snow hit the bubble and blurred their vision, the sound of their feet rushing across the snow fell softly in Hermione's ears. Hermione kept her eyes fixed on the trail beneath them as it twisted across the snow. The trail abruptly stopped and Hermione looked up, straight at the only white tree they had seen up to that point.

"There it is!" she exclaimed. They moved to the tree, as close as possible without actually bumping into and started to search for some sign of a riddle. Nothing. They couldn't find anything.

"I knew this was too easy," Hermione said with a sigh. "I just wi-"

She was cut off by a large shape falling from the sky and hitting their bubble, with not a sound.

"What the hell was that?" Draco practically screeched from where he had fallen to the ground.

"Probably the obstacle guarding the riddle," Hermione excitedly replied.

The shape on the ground twisted and writhed, then exploded into a dripping, swirling mass of color. The rainbow whirled with the wind and seemed to grow larger and larger as the snow hit it. Finally, it twisted itself into a small paragraph of words written across the air, barely visible through the bubble and the snow rushing by. It read: "Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet I easily fly. Present in light, but not in rain. Doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What am I?"

After a few moments, the words scrunched together into a small whirling ball of color, then burst into a powder that was swept away by the wind before it hit the ground.

"Only one color, but not one size," Hermione repeated. "That's not a helpful line. Stuck at the bottom, yet I easily fly. Present in light, but not in rain. Doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What could that be? What? Present in light, but not in rain. Stuck at the bottom. Not one size...Maybe...? No. How about..? No that's not it. What do you think?"  
"I don't know. Aren't you supposed to be the smartest witch of our age or whatever? Well, I always knew it would be up to me, the truly smartest wizard of our age, to save our team. Ok, maybe it's the color yellow. Present in sun, but not in rain. Right?" Draco replied with an air of humor and sarcasm.

"No. I don't think the answer is a color itself. Wait. I think I have it! A _shadow._ It's always one color, but it's constantly changing sizes. It's stuck to the bottom of a person, yet it can easily fly. It's only present with a light, which rain will block out. It doesn't hurt anyone and it can't feel pain itself because it's just a shadow. Which means that the color has to be grey!" Hermione spouted in one large blurb.

"Now all we have to do is find the center tree. '_L'Arbre du Lumiere,'" _Draco pretentiously replied.

"_Point Me!_" Hermione whispered and waved her wand.

Her wand spun in her hand and pointed straight past the white tree. Draco and Hermione glanced once at each other, then sprinted (as quickly as one could sprint through snow) in the direction the wand faced. This time the journey was short and they pushed through a thick layer of black branches laden with snow into a large open clearing that was perfectly circular. In the center stood a towering oak tree that severely contrasted all the neat lines of trees around it. This tree was covered in a frosty layer of snow and was all white. It had dozens of thin candles floating in its branches, most of which were white with normally colored flames. But there were others: cerulean and amber and dusty violet candles, all burning with gorgeous, leaping flames. The entire clearing was quiet and blocked in by a thick layer of trees, keeping away all the wind and cutting snow of their section.

"_Finite Incantatem," _Hermione whispered with a wave of her wand. The bubble disappeared.

Hermione was spellbound by this ethereal, central tree. The candles weren't just in the leaves of the frosty tree; the white, flickering candles were spiraling down the elegant, long trunk, whose roots sprawled outwards in twists. She took a few steps towards the tree, unable to look away. She heard a sharp breath from beside her and looked at Draco. He was gazing at the tree with such awe and longing in his silver eyes that she felt compelled to stare at him rather than the tree. He glanced over at her and they both smiled, so wrapped up in the beauty of the tree that the competition was forgotten. Hermione felt something strange within her, a curious little tug in her heart that warmed her to the core. The odd moment was broken by a scream that rent through the air, shattering the silence. Draco and Hermione dashed towards the tree and circled it, searching for a grey candle somewhere, anywhere. And then there it was, high up, flickering quietly among the rest of its vivid friends.

"_Accio Candle," _Draco cried and the candle flew into his hand, still burning. A crack whipped through the air and a witch in red appeared, offering her arms to Draco and Hermione. They took the arms and with another crack, they disappeared, leaving the white tree sitting quietly in the lonely, white clearing.

**Author's Note: The spell "**_**Alba Situ Revelare"**_ **is Latin for "White, Situation, Reveal." Also** "_**L'Arbre de Lumiere"**_ **means "Tree of Light" in French. If you have any questions on the chapter, feel free to PM me. I know this chapter was a little confusing, and I would be happy to answer your questions. **


	10. Castle of Ice

**Chapter Ten: Castle of Ice**

_**Draco (October 18, 3:28 p.m.)**_

_That damned Mudblood._ He had been so close, so close to completely banishing her from his mind. She was a filthy blooded witch and a Gryffindor at that. Of course they were always competing in class for the best grades, but he had never had the time or will to pay her any actual attention. And now here she was being so...so...Grangerish that she stuck out in his head like a red dot in a sea of white. He had never seen this side of her- in class she was usually so reserved-but here she was almost...free. It was difficult to stop thinking about her. He would give anything to get her annoying face out of his mind.

"Are you ready to go?" asked a witch in red. She batted her eyes at him, not so professional now that they were standing in the entrance hall, waiting for the Hogwarts broomsticks to appear.

He didn't bother responding. He could have her in an instant, not that he really wanted her. She was just like every other girl he had ever gone out with, and he was too busy with other things to really want to be with anyone.

He glanced across the hall to where Potter, Weasley, and Granger were standing. They looked like they were having a great time, the whole stupid lot of them. Why did they have to be so...well, them?

A wizard in a robe with a fur collar up to his ears, stiffly walked up to them and handed them each a broomstick with a disdainful look on his face. He clearly thought that broomsticks were not the way to travel. Draco tried to make eye contact with the man and assure him by sheer willpower that broomsticks were beneath Draco as well. The man simply glared at him.

"You were seriously great today 'Mione," came the Weasel's whining voice from across the hall.

"Thanks Ron... but how did you even watch the competition?" she responded with a giggle.

"They had some sort of live feed projected on the trees at the edge of the forest," Weasel replied. "It was weird there in the beginning. Quiet and then nothing. I about fell out of my seat."

_Could they be any more awful? _Yet, he couldn't help but continue to listen as they all mounted their broomsticks.

"I can't believe you and Malfoy have made it this far without killing each other," Harry laughed.

"He actually hasn't been as bad as I thought he would be," he heard Hermione say. "He's almost been...helpful."

_Well what did she think I was going to do? Let her mess up the whole competition and drag the Malfoy name through mud? As if._

A whistle sounded and everyone kicked off from the ground, already shivering from the cold wind blowing. This time, the journey to the next school took a rather short time. They flew until their hands were frozen and their lips were blue, but it was the matter of a couple of hours before the landed.

Draco wished he hadn't gotten on his broom in the first place when he saw the welcome that awaited them. It was an enormous crowd of blue covered Beauxbatons students in long stiff lines, haughty glances scanning them as they arrived. They must have looked rather poor arriving on a few old broomsticks, but Draco knew that this would be the perfect crowd to wear all of his most expensive robes around.

The school itself was almost as nice as Malfoy Manor, even he had to admit. It stood on a tall hill and overlooked the expansive French town below it. It towered up to the sky, an enormous ice palace. It was frost blue and sparkling white, with streaks of magenta. It was quite literally built out of ice and crystal. An elegant spire loomed in the middle of smaller towers, separated from the rest of the school by a courtyard. At the very top was a circular balcony that extended quite a ways over the grounds. A spiraling staircase wound its way up the mountain, lined by students.

The Beauxbatons all began to sing a haunting melody as the students from the other schools passed through them and began to climb the staircase. It was not words he understood, but some ancient language from another time. A welcome fit for a king surely, but it also felt a little morbid.

By the time he reached the top of the staircase, he was exhausted. He had gone from competition to broomstick ride to stair climbing, jumping from one activity to the next with such speed that he was worn out. A wizard in the same robin's egg blue waited for them at the top of the stairs with a sign that had "Hogwarts" flowing across it an elegant, effortless scrawl. He nodded at them when they reached the top of the stairs and whipped around with a crisp swish of his small cape. Dumbledore quickly turned to the right of the doors to converse with the other headmasters and so they were left trudging after their guide through icy halls that stretched to the sky, until finally reaching a door with a small placard on it.

"Ze others will be staying 'ere," he said with a heavy accent.

Draco sensed the others exchanging confused glances behind him and simply rolled his eyes.

"He means Potty and Weasley," Draco explained, too tired to come up with a more original insult.

Potter and Weasley huffed indignantly at the remark, but they seemed tired as well. Their guide started to move again and, with a sigh Draco followed. They came to another door.

"_Votre piece, mademoiselle et monsieur (_Your room, miss and sir)_,_" the guide said in French, then began to correct himself. "_Pardon, _zis is-"

"_Merci Monsieur. Quand nos valises arriveront? _(Thank you sir. When will our suitcases arrive?)" Draco responded, slipping into French easily.

"_Parlez-vous Francais? _(You speak French?)" the guide asked with surprise, then regained aloofness again. "_Vos valises arriveront bientôt. Le porteur leur apporte maintenant. Au revoir. _(Your suitcases will arrive soon. The porter is bringing them now. Goodbye)."

"_Merci. Au revoir, _(Thank you. Goodbye)" Draco replied. He ignored Hermione's stunned face.

When the door closed to their room, Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"You speak French?" she demanded.

"I picked it up on my _frequent _trips to France," he said with a smirk.

Then he turned and walked to a door adjoining the living room they were in now. It had a sign that read "Draco" on the front. He pushed it open and saw a small room with an ice blue canopy bed set against a wall of windows. There was a dresser, nightable, desk, and chair in the room, all matching the bed. There was a door on the right wall that he could only assume led to a bathroom. There was even a balcony behind his bed. A few moments later, a stout porter burst into his room, dropped Draco's trunk unceremoniously on the floor, and left. Draco pulled on some thin cotton pajamas as quickly as possible. Exhausted, Draco collapsed onto the bed and relished in the feel of the soft pillows. He was asleep in an instant.

Draco awoke the next morning to a brilliant sunrise pouring into his room. It lit up the icy walls and made his room seem like it was on fire. The sky was streaked with brilliant pink and gold and he stumbled onto his balcony for a breath of fresh air and a better look. He slid open the glass and stepped outside, shivering in the chill morning air. Somehow, inside the ice palace had been warmer than outside. He glanced around, feeling like a king as he surveyed the expansive mountain range that formed a semi-circle around the back of Beauxbatons.

To his right were gorgeous mountains, but to his left was (of course...) Granger, standing on her own balcony, next to his, doing the exact same thing he was. They caught each other's' eyes at the same moment and held the glance for a brief time before Draco looked away in disgust.

"Nice pajamas!" Granger called to him, sarcastically. Draco glanced down. In his hurry to get to bed, he hadn't put on the white pajamas he thought he had. They were his favorite green ones with little gold serpents embroidered all over it. His mother had gotten him those pajamas!

"Not so bad yourself," he called back. She glanced down at her own pink nightie, with a little owl stamped on the back. She gave a little giggle that sounded like a bell and for a strange moment, Draco felt the urge to laugh. He suppressed it.

"Ok ok, fair enough," she laughed. "Enjoy the sunrise _Malfoy_."

She turned and walked into her room, shutting her glass door with a clink. He almost grinned, in spite of himself, but then he remembered that he didn't smile and pushed the corners of his mouth down. What was wrong with him? Must be the early morning. He stalked back into his room, gathered up his competitors robes, and walked into the bathroom...exactly as a door at the opposite end opened and none other than Granger walked in.

"Oh...um, sorry," she exclaimed, going pink and sprinted out her door. Adjoining bathroom. Great. Draco made sure to lock both doors to the tiny bathroom before hopping into the shower, hoping the hot water would wake him up enough to deal with the competition today. Why they scheduled these last two events so close to each other was beyond him. Maybe to test how well they could do exhausted. A juvenile idea really. He would still beat them all, tired or not.

He finished up in the shower and dressed in his robes, making sure to unlock the doors of the bathroom as he left.

"All yours," he yelled in the direction of Hermione's room. He heard a muffled "hrmf" from her room and almost smiled again. He seriously needed to stop that.

Walking into the common living area, he spotted a piece of paper on the coffee table. There were weird plants around the room, by every door. They were like young trees, but a weird dark blue. The leaves hit him in the face as we walked out of his room. Spluttering, he made his way to the paper, picked it up, and flopped down onto the white couch next to a white armchair. It read:

**Schedule for Event Day (Hogwarts):**

7:00 Breakfast in Dining Room C

7:45 Competitors to Classroom 1842 for Wardrobe

8:15 Durmstrang Event

8:45 Dramatic Arts Event

9:15 Hogwarts Event

9:45 Beauxbatons Event

10:15 Competitor's Brunch in Dining Room F

You may spend the rest of the day as you please. You are welcome to travel the grounds and any of our students will be happy to escort you around the castle. We have a variety of activities you may participate in (listed at the bottom of this paper), or you may travel down to the town of _Chamonix _by way of carriage. A map of the school is provided on the back of your schedule.

"It's like a freaking hotel," Draco muttered. He glanced at the clock. It was only 5:30; breakfast wasn't for another half hour. He sighed and looked around the room for something to do. A few books lay on the coffee table and he picked one up and flipped through it with a listless air. However, a sentence caught his eye and he was soon enthralled in the book, wrapped up in his own world. He didn't even hear Hermione enter the room and plop down into the armchair next to him, until she asked "What are you reading?"  
"Ummmm," he mumbled, slowly pulling himself out of his book. "_The Great Gatsby."_

"Really? You're reading _The Great Gatsby? _I never took you for a classical reader," she said.

"I read classics all the time! Besides, I don't see you reading anything better," he retorted.

She flashed a copy of _Jane Eyre _that she was holding in her hand at him with a smirk.

"A classic," she said. "Just like you, Ferret."

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

She merely smiled and buried herself into her book. Draco turned back to _The Great Gatsby _with a huff of indifference. The hour and a half before breakfast passed in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, Hermione would make some small noise and Draco would tease her about it and they would banter back and forth for a little bit before turning back to their respective novels. It was rather fun, Draco had to admit. When it came time for breakfast, they rose together and since they were both going to the same place, they walked together.

"So Malfoy, are you ready for today?" Hermione asked, her face turning seriously.

"Ready for what? Ready to watch you fall flat on your face while my magnificence shines on everyone who dares look at me?" She slapped his arm for that one.

They walked a little in silence before he broke it.

"So Her- I mean Granger, are _you _ready for today?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment before responding.

"Yes and no. I'm nervous, but we've made it this far, right?"

"Right."

More silence. Then bickering and bantering and insults and names. But it was teasing. Almost like they were friends instead of mortal enemies. _When did we get this comfortable together? And when the hell did I start calling her Hermione? _Draco wondered.

They reached the breakfast room and Hermione, no Granger, gave him a small smile and went to join Potty and Weasel at a table across the room.

_What is happening to me?_

**Author's Note: So I know this chapter didn't have much excitement, but the next one will. I am planning on publishing at least one more chapter before the New Year (yay). This fanfiction will have anywhere from 7-9 more chapters, if everything goes according to plan. Also, I am currently looking for a new beta, so if there are any grammar/spelling mistakes, I apologize. **

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Happy Holidays!**


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